Walsingham answered for him, alluding to the negotiations for Queen Elizabeth’s marriage with one of the French princes—­’Sire, in the present happy conjuncture, it needs not be a less loyal Frenchman to have an inheritance in the lands of my royal mistress.’

‘What say you, Monsieur?’ sharply demanded the King:  ’are you come here to renounce your country, religion—­and love, as I have been told?’

‘I hope, Sire, never to be unfaithful where I owe faith,’ said Berenger, heated, startled, and driven to extremity.

‘Not ill answered for the English giant,’ said Charles aside to an attendant:  then turning eagerly to Sidney, whose transcendent accomplishments had already become renowned, Charles welcomed him to court, and began to discuss Ronsard’s last sonnet, showing no small taste and knowledge of poetry.  Greatly attracted by Sidney, the King detained the whole English party by an invitation to Walsingham to hear music in the Queen-mother’s apartments; and Berenger, following in the wake of his friends, found himself in a spacious hall, with a raised gallery at one end for the musicians, the walls decorated with the glorious paintings collected by Francois I., Greek and Roman statues clustered at the angles, and cabinets with gems and antiques disposed at intervals.  Not that Berenger beheld much of this:  he was absolutely dazzled with the brilliant assembly into which he was admitted.  There moved the most beautiful women in France, in every lovely-coloured tint that dress could assume:  their bosoms, arms, and hair sparkling with jewels; their gossamer ruffs surrounding their necks like fairy wings; their light laugh mingling with the music, as they sat, stood, or walked in graceful attitudes conversing with one another or with the cavaliers, whose brilliant velvet and jewels fifty mixed with their bright array.  These were the sirens he had heard of, the ‘squadron of the Queen-mother,’ the dangerous beings against whom he was to steel himself.  And which of them was the child he had played with, to whom his vows had been plighted?  It was like some of the enchanting dreams of romance merely to look at these fair creatures; and he stood as if gazing into a magic-glass till Sir Francis Walsingham, looking round for him, said, ’Come, then, my young friend, you must do your devoirs to the Queens.  Sidney, I see, is as usual in his element; the King has seized upon him.’

Catherine de Medicis was seated on a large velvet chair, conversing with the German ambassador.  Never beautiful, she appeared to more advantage in her mature years than in her girlhood, and there was all the dignity of a lifetime of rule in demeanour and gestures, the bearing of her head, and motion of her exquisite hands.  Her eyes were like her son’s, prominent, and gave the sense of seeing all round at once, and her smile was to the highest degree engaging.  She received the young Baron de Ribaumont far more graciously than Charles has done, held out her hand to be kissed, and observed ’that the young gentleman was like Madame sa mere whom she well remembered as much admired.  Was it true that she was married in England?’